


Remembrance

by die_traumerei



Series: Figurative [6]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Bucky Barnes, Canon Disabled Character, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Original Character Death(s), offscreen death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8249224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Bucky grieves; Steve tries to help.
(The grief is for an original character and the death happens before the story begins.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to a story kind of totally unlike what I usually write!
> 
> I'm going to make this a pretty blunt author's note, because I've gotten bitten by stories about grief and mourning before. This story features a Bucky who has just lost an old friend, and that first day, when he's dealing with very fresh sorrow. He has support and a companion in his grief, but it's a sad story, and Steve talks a little bit (internally) about his own dead and his mourning for them.
> 
> If you think this might be difficult for you to read, or you're not ready to deal with fictional depictions of mourning, please skip this. If you start reading it and it's painful in a bad way, or you get angry at how I have chosen to depict grief because it is not exactly how you, individually, would mourn, please go take a breather. Don't write a nasty note about how awful my characters clearly are, because I'm not in the mood to have both our nights ruined. It's okay if this story isn't for you. I have a couple hundred thousand other words that are.
> 
> (Also, standard disclaimer -- none of these characters are perfect. They, like the rest of us, are doing the best they can.)
> 
> Hope that didn't scare anyone away, but like I said -- I don't want to ruin your night, you know?

“Oh my _God_ , you have lost your mind,” Bucky announced, scrubbing at a frying pan.

“I have not. Several people on the internet think I'm right,” Steve said smugly.

“Steve, that's not really a good metric,” Bucky pointed out delicately. “Oh, hey, hand me that mug? Thanks.” He went back to washing up. Steve was on drying duty, because they were at Bucky's where everything was set up so he _could_ do the dishes, so why not?

He reflected for a moment that he was maybe stupidly lucky to have a boyfriend who understood disability from the inside, so to speak.

“Several people on the internet think the moon landings were faked,” Bucky continued, rinsing the mug off and handing it over. 

“Yeah, but I'm _right_ ,” Steve said. “DS9 is, objectively, the best Trek series.”

“I am going to make you sleep on the sofa,” Bucky informed him. “Anything we miss, hon?”

“Nope. That one pan has to soak for awhile, I guess?”

“It's a lot easier to clean that way,” Bucky admitted, drying his hand off and pecking Steve's cheek. “Thanks for helping.”

“My pleasure,” Steve said, looking awkward and blushing for no real reason, other than he was a dweeb and Bucky loved him. “C'mon, if we leave soon, we have time to get bagels and lox before we gotta meet Nat at the Met.”

“Ugh, putting on real pants,” Bucky muttered, giving his frankly pretty threadbare sweatpants a very judgy look.

“Homemade veggie cream cheese,” Steve sing-songed. “Enough lox to. Uh. A lot of lox, anyway.”

Bucky giggled and pinched Steve's side. “ _Fine_ , I'll go get changed. Ugh, yes, you can come and ogle me,” he said with a tortured sigh.

“My favorite,” Steve said gleefully, trailing Bucky to his bedroom and flopping on the big unmade bed, hands behind his head and clearly gawking at his boyfriend. “You're so hot, baby.”

“You are so unromantic sometimes it actually physically pains me,” Bucky informed him, stripping down quickly. He excavated a clean pair of boxers – wiggling his ass at Steve the whole time, of course – and dug out jeans that were basically clean.

“What?” he asked, catching Steve's sleepy smile. “I'm not even naked anymore.”

“Nothin'. Just like watching you move.” Steve's cheeks stained red again. “It's. Um. It's cool, seeing how you get around having one hand.”

Bucky's smile softened. “Thanks, love. Had a lot of practice. And lessons. And Youtube helps – other amputees offering tips or whatever.” That was where he'd gotten the idea to hunt down an antique buttonhook, thereby making button-down shirts a thing that was bearable again.

“'s why I like it here,” Steve admitted. “Everything's all set up for you perfectly.” He hesitated, then asked, very quietly. “Um. If you tell me what to do, I can adapt my place. To make it easier for you.”

“Oh, baby.” Bucky sat on the side of the bed and started rubbing Steve's chest. “Thank you. I'll do a little walk-through with you tonight, tell you what would be most useful, okay?” He smiled and leaned over, kissing Steve lightly. “I'm fine the way things are, too. I get by.”

“I know. But I don't want you just getting by in my home, I want you to feel like you belong.” Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky's side, squeezing a little. “Able to do anything you want.”

Bucky kissed him. “You sweetheart. Thank you.” Another kiss. “Nnnn. I need a shirt. Then we need a bagel and schmear.”

Steve laughed and let him go, and Bucky finished with a long-sleeved shirt, the left sleeve pinned up over his stump.

His phone rang, and Steve rolled over to reach, handing it over. “Oh, it's Sita. If she's free, see if she can join us,” he said. Steve had more or less been trying put Sita up for sainthood since she'd taken a couple hundred boudoir photos of Bucky.

Bucky took the phone and grinned as he answered. “Hey! What's up?”

Steve watched as Bucky's eyes widened and his face grew serious. “Yeah, with Steve. What's wrong, honey?”

Sita must have replied, because Bucky dropped down onto the bed, his face falling, the few inches of left arm he had coming up, like he was putting his head in his hands. “Oh my God. Are you sure?”

Steve sat up and knelt beside Bucky, one arm around his shoulders and deeply worried. This was not good news.

“Uh huh.” Bucky paused and sniffled. “Oh my God. I can't...oh my _God_.” He started to cry, and leaned into Steve. “Of course you can come over. Holy shit. Oh, Sita.” He sniffled again and swiped his eyes on his shoulder. “Please come over. I can't...yeah. Yeah, of course. See you soon.” He hung up and went for Steve, burying his face in Steve's shoulder.

“Shh, I've got you, baby,” Steve murmured, rocking him a little. “What's wrong, love? Is Sita...?”

Bucky shook his head and choked a little, crying in earnest now. “She's fine. She called because, um, a friend of ours from high school d-died in a car crash last night...”

“Oh my God, baby,” Steve said, hugging Bucky closer. “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Shh, I've got you love.”

“Sita's gonna come over.” Bucky wiped his eyes and sniffled again. “I'm really sorry, I'm gonna have to beg off this afternoon, 'm gonna be useless.”

“Anything you want,” Steve said firmly, and cupped Bucky's face in his hands. “Poor love. Do you...” he hesitated, then asked, awkward as it was. “Do you want me to go? Just you and Sita?”

Bucky shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. “ _Please_ stay with me? Please?”

“Of course I will,” Steve said, his own voice a little shaky. He hugged Bucky tightly and rubbed his back, trying to soothe what couldn't be comforted. “I'm so sorry, love.”

“Her name is – was – Ren,” Bucky said, and coughed, and cried harder. “She was _my age_ Steve. She's not even gonna see thirty...”

“Oh, honey.” Steve stroked Bucky's hair, not knowing what else to do. “I'm sorry, love.”

“I haven't even seen her in years,” Bucky explained through tears. “She moved out to California but we followed each other on Instagram and we're facebook friends and all that and she had this great career and now she's _gone_.”

Steve kissed his cheek, feeling more and more powerless. “Oh, honey.” He rubbed Bucky's back and let him cry for a few minutes, until the worst of the sobs had quieted.

“I'm so sorry,” Steve murmured again, and kissed the top of his head. “Sita'll be here soon, and you'll have someone else who knew her,” he said, feeling entirely, horribly lost. “You guys can, uh, do whatever you need to.”

Bucky nodded, and wiped his eyes. “Yeah.” He gave Steve a wobbly smile. “I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.” Steve kept his arm around Bucky's waist as they walked into the living room to wait for Sita. “I love you,” he repeated, cuddling his boyfriend close on the big sofa.

Bucky just cried silently until the doorbell rang, and Steve got up to buzz Sita in, with no little relief. He was so _bad_ at this.

Steve met her at the open door with a huge hug. Sita was tall, curvy and long-legged and stunning, and she cared about Bucky possibly more than Steve did, which meant Steve would walk through fire for her.

“I'm so sorry,” he murmured to her. “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I'm here for you guys, both of you. Anything you want, you let me know.”

Sita managed a smile, but it was obvious she'd been crying; she was just as red-eyed and tearstained as Bucky, and he let her in so she could make a beeline for the sofa, and she and Bucky could wrap around each other and weep.

Steve stole away to the kitchen to put the kettle on and quickly text Nat.

_Give him my love_ was her reply.  Steve then made tea, bringing out mugs for both of them.

Bucky  took his tea and settled back down, he and Sita cuddling together. Steve couldn't help but smile,  watching them – they were close friends, and he cared about them, and they cared about each other, and all of that meant that this was  something special . It was never far from the back of his mind that he might not come home from the next mission; at least he knew that Bucky would have people to love him and mourn with him, if need be.

“You guys want anything to eat?” he asked softly, kneeling on the floor by Bucky and reaching up to rub his leg. 

Sita shook her head and Bucky smiled down at Steve. “Not right now. Thanks, love.”

“Of course.” Steve turned and kissed Bucky's knee, waiting for the next thing. He just wanted something to _do_.

“You never met her, did you?” Sita asked, and Steve looked up at her, resting his head on Bucky's shin.

“No, I don't think so. Ren, right?” he asked, and Sita nodded. 

“Yeah. She moved away years ago, and didn't come back to visit often.” She smiled a little. “You would have loved her, Steve. She was sweet as could be, and adored Bucky from the moment they met.”

Steve grinned at her. “You're right, I would've loved her. You guys all met in high school?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky said. “We all had the same history class and sat together. And Ren and I had the same homeroom.”

“I didn't know you two knew each other from that far back,” Steve said, a little delighted.

Sita giggled. “Yup. I remember this one before his voice broke and when he had two arms,” she teased, freeing a hand to yank lightly on Bucky's hair.

“Hey!” Bucky laughed and headbutted her. “I remember _this one_ when she was all arms and legs and braces,” he teased back.

Steve grinned at them, utterly delighted. “Tell me  _everything_ .”

“Okay, you know how he is around Nat?” Sita asked, while Bucky sipped his tea and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he was like that _all the time_.”

Bucky groaned. “I was not.”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay, I was a little.” Bucky smiled and rested his head on Sita's shoulder. “Remember when Ren spent a year trying to get me a date?”

“Oh my God. She was _incorrigible_.” Sita smiled down at Steve. “She saw no reason why asexuality had to matter, not when Bucky wanted to be a  romantic sap to like, twenty different people a day. She succeeded, too, by the way."

“My first girlfriend,” Bucky confided, and blushed a little. “Oh, God, Steve. I never told you this – she was called Margaret Carter. No relation. And she went by Maggie.”

Steve sat up a little, delighted. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. She looked a little like your Peggy, too – dark hair and brown eyes and gorgeous.” Bucky smiled softly, a little wistfully. “She was really nice – I think Ren basically arranged everything but the actual date to get us together.”

Sita giggled. “She did. And then she and I staked out a coffeeshop across the street to spy on you.”

“You did _what_?” Bucky yelped, while Steve attempted to rein in gleeful laughter.

“Well, we had to make sure you guys were having a good time,” Sita said, a little smugly. “She and I took turns spying out the window. You behaved very well, Bucky.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Bucky groaned, setting his empty mug aside and collapsing a little onto Sita. “I cannot believe you guys.”

“I can,” Steve offered, and shared a smile with Sita. “I'm also _pretty_ sure I'd notice you tailing us on a date, but now I'm afraid to say for sure.”

Sita laughed. “Oh, I trust him now.” She smiled and kissed the top of Bucky's head. “Remember when you told her you were dating Steve?”

“Pretty sure I heard the shriek all the way from California,” Bucky commented. “Remember when you told her you got your own studio?”

Sita blinked back tears. “She embroidered a wallhanging for me. It's over my desk.”

“The one with all the feathers?” Bucky wiped his eyes. “That's gorgeous.”

“Uh huh.” Sita sniffled. “This sucks. I miss her so bad already.”

“Me too,” Bucky said, and hugged her tightly. “Even when she moved away and we weren't as close, it was always gonna be the three of us.”

Sita nodded, starting to cry again. “Even when you had your accident – we  _knew_ you'd pull through, Bucky. No one believed us, but we were right. She refused to believe you wouldn't survive.”

Bucky was weeping too now, and tears pricked at Steve's eyes. These three had lives more intertwined than he'd ever guessed, and he'd never even met Ren.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, and went up on his feet, wrapping his arms around both of them, two heads tucking into his shoulders. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. She sounds so amazing.”

“She was _awesome_ ,” Bucky said, and started crying in earnest again. “And now she's gone.”

Sita just held on tight and wept, and Steve kissed the top of her head, and gave the both of them someone to hold onto.

They both quieted, in time, and Sita gently drew away, but Bucky stayed in Steve's arms, and Steve shifted to sit on the sofa, his sweetheart held close.

“I'll get next round of tea,” she volunteered. “Steve? You want some?”

“Yes, please,” he said. “You know where everything is?”

“I've got it,” she promised him, and collected hers and Bucky's mugs, heading for the kitchen.

Steve kissed Bucky softly, then once again. “Hey, love.”

“Hi.” Bucky gave him a watery smile. “I'm not going to be super-fun for a little while. Sorry.”

“You have nothing at all to apologize for,” Steve said very firmly, and touched his cheek. “I spend half my time in mourning, still, and you seem to put up with me.”

“'s different,” Bucky protested, and hugged Steve tightly. “Oh, honey. I just want to be sad for awhile.”

“We'll be sad together, then. I'm sorry I never met her,” Steve said, and smiled a little. “Or that I didn't know you and Sita knew each other for such a long time. I didn't realize that she was pre-accident.”

“Uh huh. We were all out of high school then, of course, but everyone still lived in New York.” Bucky smiled softly, remembering. “They practically lived at the hospital with me, and again at the rehab place. Ren was so smug about me making it, it was great.”

Steve laughed. “Well, she should've been. She was right and everyone else was wrong, and you're amazing, so there.”

Bucky actually laughed at that, and settled in Steve's embrace, warm and solid in Steve's arms.

Sita came back with tea, and passed the mugs around, curling up across the sofa from them. “Thanks for letting me come over, by the way,” she said. “I didn't want to be alone.”

“Oh my _God_ , I won't let you out of my sight,” Bucky scolded gently. “Honey, we gotta be together today.”

“What he said,” Steve said firmly. “We'll never turn you away, Sita. You've got to know that.”

She nodded, and smiled, and drank her tea, and a comfortable silence settled over the room.

“Remember when I was still in the hospital, and you guys came over and we binge-watched all of Buffy?” Bucky asked softly, some time later.

“Oh my God, yeah.” Sita grinned. “You were still on pretty impressive meds, and you were _so_ in love with David Boreanaz.”

Bucky groaned. “I was young and dumb and had just escaped death, don't blame me for my life choices.”

Sita laughed. “So in love,” she assured Steve. “It was super gross.”

“I could barely move, I had to express myself somehow,” Bucky said with great dignity.

“Dweeb.”

They smiled at each other, and Sita kicked him gently in the leg. “Hey, kid. Thanks for not dying and leaving me on my own.”

“Oh, honey.” Bucky set his mug aside and reached his arm out, gathering Sita close. “You're a dweeb.” He hugged her tightly. “You and Ren kept me going some days.”

“Well, you scared the shit out of us, so we were gonna make you pay as soon as you were up to it.” Sita rested her head on his shoulder. “When you were in a coma, those first few days, we'd spend all day and night together, just waiting for news. She never doubted you'd pull through, but I was so scared.”

Bucky kissed her cheek, and Steve shifted so he could get his arms around her too. He knew that Bucky had almost died, but this was the first time really talking to someone who had lived through it from the other side, so to speak.

“So, anyway. Thanks for not dying,” she said, and gave him a funny half-smile.

“You're welcome,” Bucky said, and hugged her again. “We're gonna remember her for as long as we live. We'll love her forever, too, the way she loved us.”

Sita nodded, tears welling up again. “It's not  _fair_ .”

“It's not,” Bucky agreed, and they held each other and wept again, slow and soft this time, tears rolling down their cheeks.

 

Steve was fixing lunch when he heard giggles from the living room again, and smiled to himself. It had been all ups and downs of emotion, with a thick layer of sadness, as the two of them reminisced and cried and told each other – and him – stories about Ren.

He set the sandwiches on the table and went to call Bucky and Sita when they came in together, Bucky going straight for a hug and a kiss.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he sighed, and Steve gave him an extra little squeeze. 

“Eat something, both of you,” he said. And then, frankly, “It won't make you feel better, but at least you won't be hungry _too_.”

Sita laughed, and looked startled and pleased. “Steven, you are a breath of fresh goddamn air.”

“I try,” he said with a little bow, and made sure they were both eating before he went to dig out a bag of chips, and then finally join them.

They ate in silence, and then Sita got another phone call, from Ren's sister this time. Steve waved her and Bucky off and tidied up himself, giving them the privacy of the living room at least.

He rejoined them when he heard Sita hang up, the two of them curled up on the sofa again, Bucky with his laptop out.

“Her family are holding the funeral in Morro Bay,” he explained. “So, uh, I gotta fly out there. _Fuck_ ,” he cursed suddenly. “I've got work tonight, a private session. _Shit_.”

“Oh, hell,” Steve said, and checked his calendar – both his and Bucky's schedules habitually appeared, and he even got Bucky's alerts on some things. “It's okay, it's with Dylan. They'll understand.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I should have called them this morning at least,” Bucky said, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Shit, my brain, some days...”

“Calm down,” Sita said firmly, and squeezed his shoulder. “Steve's right, this person will understand. Call them now and explain.”

“Ugh, I am the worst,” Bucky sighed, but he did call, apologized for five minutes straight, and wound up promising he would take the weekend off and take care of himself and take time off in the coming week if he needed to.

Sita and Steve exchanged very smug looks throughout, and Bucky hung up with a sigh of relief.

“Okay, one crisis over, the next to tackle.” He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Shit, Sita. My brain is not happy. You got this one?”

“Obviously.” Sita rolled her eyes and quickly booked them both flights and a car rental on the other end. “I'll Air BnB something for us later. You – breathe.”

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbled, and lay down on the sofa, his legs in Sita's lap. 

“Eh. You're still doin' better than you were, kid,” she teased gently, and rubbed his shins. “C'mon, Steve, be his pillow – there you go,” she said, squeezing his leg. “Just like we used to do.”

“When I was first getting better, I'd use Ren and Sita as, like, my personal human cushions,” Bucky admitted, and laughed at Sita's snort of recognition. “What! I was touch-starved?” he tried.

“Try spoiled and taking advantage,” she informed him, and smiled at Steve. “Your boy was well-taken care of, I promise.”

“Good,” Steve said, and met her eyes. “Thank you for looking out for him; you and Ren both.” He finger-combed Bucky's hair and caressed his cheek. “I know what a pain in the ass he is.”

“Hey!”

Sita giggled. “Oh my  _God_ , Steve, you don't even know that half of it.” She grinned down at Bucky. “You'd drive us crazy, kid. Seriously, we had to go out drinking a time or two to get over you.”

“Eh, not sorry,” Bucky said with a shrug.

“Can _I_ go out drinking with you to get over him?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Anytime,” Sita said.

“You're both very mean to me,” Bucky observed.

“Yeah, but the pathetic near-death thing could only take you so far,” Sita pointed out. She paused and her eyes widened. “Oh, shit. Oh _shit_.”

“What?” Bucky demanded, as she started to cackle. “ _What_?”

“Has Steve seen the Bucky Blog yet?” she asked.

“That _what_?” Steve asked, absolutely delighted.

“No!” Bucky moaned, hiding his face.

“The Bucky Blog,” Sita informed him. “Becca started it, like, the day of Bucky's accident so everyone could stay up to date on how he was doing. She wrote most of the early entries but Ren and I wrote a lot too, especially after Bucky woke up. A couple of them feature stupid high school pictures,” she said helpfully.

“ _Nooooo_ ,” Bucky wailed, and Sita giggled, reaching for his laptop. “No, seriously,” he said, sitting up and pulling his legs off of Sita's lap. “It's really sad.”

“You know it's a happy ending,” she said, waving him off.

“Sita.” Bucky sighed, and turned to Steve, reaching out for his hand. “Honey, I won't stop you, but it's _really_ sad, and you're gonna see pictures of me looking not so good. I wasn't expected to survive at first, and you'll see why.” He kissed Steve softly. “Maybe not such a good thing for today, you know?”

Steve nodded, and squeezed Bucky's hand. “I want to read it,” he said. “I want to know about this part of you, honey. But you're right, not today; there's enough sadness.”

“I pulled the blog up already,” Sita admitted, and smiled, looking down at the screen. “Oh, Buck, that last video you made. That's worth watching. Ren's in it.”

Bucky looked startled, then smiled. “Yeah. Oh,  _yeah_ . Give it here.”

Steve propped his chin on Bucky's shoulder, watching him scroll down the page. It was a bland Wordpress Blog, and the topmost – and last – entry was a link to a video.

“This is pretty happy, I promise,” Bucky said, and hit play.

 

The video started with Bucky fiddling with something, then calling over his shoulder. “Am I doing this right?”

“You really cannot fuck this up,” said a voice offscreen, then a tomboyish girl with brown hair and freckles appeared. She sighed and leaned over Bucky to tap a keyboard. “There, you're more than fine, honey.”

“Thanks Ren,” he sing-songed, and turned back to the camera. “Sorry about that. So, uh, hey! Hi. I wanted to make a final video before I finish updating this blog, because, I mean, it's all kind of over. Mostly over, I mean.” He sighed, and rubbed his hair – growing out, Steve noticed, with the scars on the side of his head starkly visible, but the beginnings of curls there too. The Bucky in the video looked younger of course, paler and wan, but he looked, and sounded, mostly like Steve's Bucky.

“I'm never gonna be exactly the guy I was before the accident. And not just, uh, the arm thing. My memory is pretty fucked, and, I mean. I've been through a lot. But I got though it, thanks to all of you who called and wrote e-mails and visited and just...I wanted to thank you all, because it meant so much to me.”

He took a deep breath. “God, there's so many of you. I owe each of you a cake, and I swear I'll get it to you. Just gotta work on my one-handed baking, you know?” He smiled, and moved the stump of his left arm. “Right. I mean, first I gotta thank Sita and Ren. Ren, you already saw, she's like my tech goddess --”

“I am available for hire and my rates are really reasonable!” Ren chirped, sticking her head in from offscreen. “Give me your dollars in exchange for my services! Please!”

 

(Back in the present, Bucky started to cry silently, tears rolling down his face.)

 

“Yeah, give her a job, okay? She's the best.” Bucky smiled warmly at her, now offscreen. “Yeah, so Ren and Sita. Shit, you guys've been my friends forever, and you gave up so much to make sure I wasn't bored, that I had people around, that I had distractions and just...everything. Thanks won't ever cover it. You're my best friends, and I love you.” 

He took a deep breath. “And Thom. Dude, if you ever need an ex-boyfriend recommendation or something, I am your guy. You're just...you have so much gentleness and grace about you. Thank you. I know this didn't end the way either of us wanted it to, but you've been amazing, and I hope you find every happiness, 'cause you deserve it. I'm sorry it didn't, it couldn't work out. Stay in touch, okay?”

 

(“Who's Thom?” Steve asked, sort of relishing the little curl of jealousy in his stomach.

“Just an ex!” Bucky said.

“I'll tell you about Thom later,” Sita promised.)

 

“And oh, shit. I can't...Jesus, my memory really _is_ shot.” Bucky in the video smiled, sudden and achingly young. “Thank you, to the trauma team at St. Ignatius, and my surgeons and the nurses who kept me alive. Thank you so much for working so hard on me, and for...for saving my life. Thank you to the first responders, and the people who cared, who helped, who, um. Who dug me out of that train and saved my life. To say I'm grateful doesn't cover it. And thank you to my rehab team, who got me walking again, got me working around the one-arm thing, gave me hope that I could put my life together again.” He giggled. “My rehab team especially – you're all agents of Torquemada, and I'm so grateful for you.”

 

(Steve began taking mental notes of where his really  _big_ charity donations would be going that year. Sita and Becca could get him the list of everybody who had helped Bucky along the way.)

 

“And, uh, finally, my family.” Bucky paused and brushed his hand through his hair. “Oh, God. Becca, Mom, Dad...I can't...” He broke down, started to cry, and Ren appeared again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind and whispering in his ear.

Bucky onscreen sniffled and sat up, wiping his eyes while Ren held him tightly. “I am so blessed. I mean that. I love you guys so much, I can't even...I'm so lucky. To be your son, to be your brother.” He smiled shyly. “You're amazing, and I can't believe I'm part of this family. Thank you, a thousand times, thank you, for everything.”

Ren grinned and hugged him, and Bucky laughed. “Okay, sorry. I'm just very full of feelings. It's been almost a year and I'm back on my feet and living on my own and thinking about work and my brain even mostly works again. And it's all 'cause of you guys. So thanks.”

“Thanks!” Ren echoed brightly, and reached past Bucky to turn the video off.

 

Steve was wiping away tears as the video ended, and Bucky was sniffling in his arms. Sita smiled fondly at both of them. “So, yeah. That was Ren, through and through.”

Steve rested his head on Bucky's, burying his face for a moment in soft dark hair. “She was awesome, honey. You had such an awesome person in your life.”

Bucky nodded, and just let the two of them hold him tightly.

 

After the latest wave of tears had passed, and Steve had kissed and cuddled Bucky enough to soothe them both slightly, he turned to Sita with a watery smile. “Okay, tell me who Thom is.”

Sita laughed and ruffled Bucky's hair. “He was Bucky's boyfriend when the accident happened.”

Bucky smiled a little at that. “Uh huh. We'd only be dating like two months when it all went down.”

“It sounds like he ended things, though,” Steve said carefully, definitely pretty sure he didn't approve of Bucky getting dumped while in a hospital bed.

“ _We_ ended things,” Bucky said firmly, sitting back a little so he could meet Steve's eyes, but his arm still interlaced with Steve's. “Seriously, it was the best thing for both of us, no matter how much we liked each other. Thom was – is – an amazing political philosopher, and he was working his ass off to land the internships he needed. And I was working my ass off to recover.” He smiled  ruefully and kissed Steve's shoulder. “We had a long, tearful talk, not long after I woke up, about how neither of us could take care of the other. He made sure I knew he cared about me, and that I could always call on him for support, and made sure that it ended as best it could, with a lot of warmth and understanding. It _had_ to end, and he was so gracious and good about it.”

“Hmm,” Steve said, still pretty sure he didn't approve of this.

“Him at twenty-one isn't you or me now,” Bucky said, a little more firmly. “I'm serious, Steve, don't judge him for this. It wasn't fair to either of us.”

Steve sighed. “Ugh, fine. I guess.”

Sita laughed and squeezed Steve's shoulder. “And Thom is very happily married to his husband and lives in DC and works for a thinktank and continues to be amazing.”

“He really is,” Bucky confirmed. “We write each other over facebook once a year or so. He's a gem.”

Steve made a face, but he smiled and pulled Bucky into his lap again. “Well, whatever. You had plenty of people around you anyway.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky gave a sleepy kind of smile, his eyes drifting shut for a moment. “Sita and Ren and my family and, well. You saw the video. I had tons of friends and family around me.”

“Good,” Steve said, and rubbed Bucky's back until he drifted off.

“Poor dab,” Sita murmured, snagging a blanket from the back of the sofa and covering Bucky up. “He always could fall asleep instantly, by the way.”

Steve chuckled softly. “It's been a hard day, too.”

Sita nodded and scrubbed at her eyes. “You mind if I just put a movie on? I kinda want to get out of my own brain.”

“Honey, you do anything that'll help you feel better,” Steve said firmly. “I mean that. I don't know what to do – there's nothing I _can_ do – but, yeah. Anything you want, it's yours.”

Sita smiled at him and put on  _Fantasia_ , and promptly fell asleep curled up on Bucky, her head pillowed on his side and arms loose around his waist.

 

The two of them napped while Steve mostly watched them. Mostly watched Bucky, to be honest – watched the rise and fall of his back as he breathed, the way his stump rested on Steve's hip, the gentle grace of him. He didn't dare touch – they both deserved the respite of sleep – but his hand ached to run through Bucky's hair and rest on his skin, warm and glowing with health. His sweetheart had survived so much, it didn't seem fair that he had to mourn someone who had once been one of his closest friends.

Ren had been awesome; Steve was sure of it. Any woman who was goofy and silly, and who held Bucky while he tearfully thanked his family would have to be. He hadn't even met her and  _he_ missed her.

Fuck, he missed everyone. Everyone he had loved and known before the ice was gone now; Peggy had been the last, and she had died even before he met Bucky. There was no one  _Bucky_ could talk to, to learn what Steve had been like, before. Before waking up in the wrong time and restarting his life. There weren't that many people left who even remembered the world the way it was when Steve was a little kid – and of course their memories were distant, full of life lived, while Steve's were from just a few years ago.

Steve's grief was an old friend now, his loneliness and his missing his dead. It felt almost comfortable to add another to the count, and to be there for his boyfriend while his grief was fresh, and then to be there as it aged and turned to wistfulness. Still painful; but the kind of sadness that was everyday, a friend who was remembered on her birthday, or Bucky's birthday, or just because of a funny story. Steve was  _good_ at grief – at least, at  his own.

He watched over his boyfriend and their friend until Bucky stirred and rubbed his eyes. He sat up and woke Sita, who promptly lay down with her head in Bucky's lap and dozed longer.

“Hey,” Steve murmured, and Bucky gave him a little smile, resting his head on Steve's shoulder.

“You okay honey?” he mumbled.

“Me?” Steve asked, surprised. “Love, don't you worry about me,” he scolded gently.

“Don't tell me what to do,” Bucky mumbled and yawned. “Seriously. You okay?”

“I'm okay,” Steve promised, and kissed Bucky's temple. “I'm sad too, but not in a bad way.”

“Kay.” Bucky yawned again. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Steve murmured, starting to stroke Bucky's hair. “C'mon, cuddle up – yeah, like that. We can figure out dinner in a little bit."

Bucky nodded and closed his eyes, but didn't, quite, fall back asleep. So Steve didn't feel bad, petting him and cuddling him as he and Sita dozed.

 

Dinner turned out to be a massive pizza with approximately every topping available, beer (and fancy soda for Bucky), and a pint of ice cream shared out. Sita stayed a little afterwards, and she and Bucky told stories from when they were younger, and Steve even told a few stories from when he was in high school in the thirties, much to both of their delights.

It took about four promises that she was fine, really, but Sita finally headed home for the night. (“Seriously, I'm staying with Bucky, you can crash in my apartment,” Steve said earnestly, and she threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek and said he could order her an Uber if he was so passionate about all of this. So he did.)

“I love you,” Bucky said, pulling her into a hug. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course. Love you too, Buck. You and Steve take care of each other, okay?” she said, kissing his cheek.

“You take care of yourself,” Steve ordered, lifting her up with a bear hug. “We're a phone call or a text away, Sita. I mean it.”

“I know.” She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Love you too, Steve.”

Predictably, he blushed, and mumbled that he loved her, and then her car was there and he and Bucky walked her down and watched her get in the car while she rolled her eyes extravagantly at both of them.

The two men took turns showering and getting changed for bed, and Steve pulled up  _Snow White_ on the laptop and turned the sound down before the crawled in beside Bucky, pulling him in for a kiss and stroking his back.

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmured, and kissed Bucky again. “Can I get you anything?”

Bucky shook his head and squirmed further into Steve's arms. “Thanks for staying.”

“Thanks for letting me stay! I don't really want to be without you right now,” Steve said, scritching Bucky's back lightly. “I'm so, so sorry, love.”

“Thanks.” Bucky yawned and sighed. “I'm sorry too. This sucks so bad.”

“Yeah.” Steve held him a little tighter, just for a moment. “I wish I could help.”

Bucky shrugged. “All part of being human. Mourning, I mean.”

“Yeah, but it's a sucky part. I like being in love better,” Steve said, and Bucky giggled and wiped his eyes.

“Me too. Oh, hey. Sorry about the blog thing – I really sort of forgot about it, I wasn't keeping it from you.”

“Didn't think you were. But you're right, now's not the time to read through it. I liked the video, though,” Steve admitted. “You're such a cutie.”

Bucky laughed. “I was just about able to hold it together on my own when I did that,” he admitted. “You see cutie, I see 'ten minutes from falling over'.”

“Yeah, but you didn't. You survived,” Steve said, smiling slowly. “You made it, love. You survived it all, and thrived.” He cupped the end of Bucky's stump in the palm of his hand, gentle as could be. “Look at you.”

Bucky just shrugged, but he was smiling again, and lay down with his head on Steve's chest. “Let's just watch the movie until I fall asleep hilariously early?” He yawned. “I want this day  _over_ .”

“Of course.” Steve kissed his hair, damp and sweet-smelling, and watched the film over Bucky's sleeping body flung over his, loose and easy and at peace.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve let himself into the warmth of his apartment, welcome after the sharp autumn snap outside. It was a glorious day; the most perfect blue sky arcing overhead, the air chill and fragrant, even in the middle of Brooklyn. It was a cloudless, sunny day, maybe one of the last nice  mornings before winter hit.

He headed for the kitchen, grinning when he saw Bucky sat in the little breakfast nook, sipping coffee and flicking through Steve's iPad.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Bucky had flown home from California the night before, and Steve had picked him and Sita up at the airport, dropped her off home, and taken Bucky back to his place. Bucky had kissed him, taken a shower, kissed him again, and immediately fallen into a deep sleep. “How you doing?”

“Morning.” Bucky stood up and reached for a hug. “Oh, stop, I know you're all gross and sweaty, but I want a hug.”

Steve squeezed him tightly, lifting him off the ground a little and cheered immensely when this made Bucky giggle.

“I'm okay,” Bucky said, once Steve put him down again and kissed him hello. “Woke up and had a little cry, but...I'm okay.”

“Good, love.” Steve nuzzled his cheek, smiling into the scratchy stubble there. “I've got all day free. You?”

“Um.” Bucky checked his calendar on the iPad. “Free until midafternoon.” He grinned a little. “And can I use your washer and dryer?”

Steve laughed, and hugged him again. “All yours. I'm gonna jump in the shower. There any coffee left?”

“Tons,” Bucky promised. “Go shower, I'll make breakfast.”

“Best boyfriend ever.” Steve paused and kissed him softly, and very thoroughly. “Hey. I love you.”

“I know, sweaty. I love you too.” Bucky shoved him gently out of the kitchen. “Go make it so you don't smell like a gym sock, please.”

Steve laughed all the way to the bathroom.

 

He followed the smell of eggs and bacon back to the kitchen when he was sufficiently not gym-sock-scented, and wrapped himself around Bucky from behind, pressing loud, smacky kisses to his shoulder and neck.

“Aaaargh,” Bucky protested, laughing and squirming. “Jesus, at least help out. Be my left hand for a sec and hold the frying pan?”

“On it,” Steve said, reaching around Bucky to steady the handle as requested, so Bucky could flip the frying eggs. “This looks fantastic.”

“It will be if you let go of me,” Bucky scolded, and kissed his cheek. “Go sit down and start in on the fruit or something if you need a thing to do.”

“Ooooh, kiwis!” Steve dove for the little table and started on what was there. 

Bucky just laughed and finished making breakfast, setting Steve's plate in front of him. “Here you go, super-soldier, eat up.”

Steve grinned and grabbed Bucky, hauling him onto his lap and kissing his throat. “In a minute. Not got enough of my guy yet.”

“Ugh. You weren't like this the _last_ time I was away for a week.”

“My mistake.” Steve kissed right over Bucky's heart. “It's really nice having you back.”

“It's nice being back,” Bucky assured him, stroking his hair. “Let go, baby, we can cuddle when food's not getting cold.”

“Ugh, fine.” Steve let him go with one more kiss for the road, and dug in, feeling strangely light and buoyant. Things were still sad, and would be for a long time – a funeral wouldn't change that. But he had his baby back where he could take care of him, make him giggle and love on him and try to help, just a little. Be there with him, instead of limited to phone calls at night.

“How was your week?” Bucky asked, when they'd both taken the edge off a bit.

Steve shrugged. “Good, I guess. As usual. Quiet in the superhero department. Tony binged on some science so even he's been asleep for the last two days.”

Bucky smiled at that. “Good.”

“Oh,” Steve said, hoping he sounded casual. “I started reading, uh, the blog.”

“What'd you think?” Bucky asked.

“Mostly I just...didn't do well,” Steve admitted. “I made it three entries before I decided to wait for you to come home first.” He gave Bucky a funny sort of smile. “Want you nearby, when I read it.”

“Okay,” Bucky said softly, and smiled at him. “Happy ending, remember?”

Steve nodded, and bit his lip. “I. Yeah. Happy ending.” He smiled, tentatively. “You're happy, love? Really?”

“At the moment? No.” Bucky sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I mean, I am, because I'm home with you and we can spend time together and I missed you, but I'm not because I had to bury one of my oldest friends and --” He paused, scrunching his eyes shut, and took a deep breath. “I'm a lot of things. But...I'm happy in my life, you know? It's a good life.”

“Okay. Good.” Steve took a deep breath. “ _Good_.”

Bucky smiled at him, quick and sweet. “Hey. Let's go for a walk after breakfast. It looks gorgeous out.”

“It is,” Steve said, going back to eating, with the morning's raw emotional honesty behind him. Bucky was so easy to be honest with. It was crazy-making, some days. “Anywhere you wanna go?”

“No. Just walk. Maybe not too far – there's rain coming, by the way – but yeah. Just get outside and do something.”

Steve smiled at him. “I've got some extra-strength stuff in the bathroom, love.” Bucky's bones ached with the change in pressure, but it had to be really bad to keep him down.

“You _are_ a real superhero,” Bucky sighed, and Steve laughed, and they finished breakfast together in comfortable quiet.

 

The air was still clean and the wind blowsy when the left the apartment, Bucky snuggled into a sweater he'd essentially stolen from Steve at this point, and Steve in shirtsleeves and a dopey grin at the sight of his boyfriend in the too-large tribute to the cable-knit. They didn't tend to hold hands – Bucky pointed out that he wasn't gonna give up the one he had – but Steve kept a hand on the small of his back, or an arm around his waist, or his hand on Bucky's shoulder. Gentle, light contact, but constant as they walked through still-quiet streets.

“You mind if we go in?” Bucky asked, as their ambling took them past a little, old cemetery. “Sorry, I know it's morbid, but...they're so peaceful, you know?”

Steve gave him a quiet, funny sort of smile. “I know. And yeah, of course. I can. Uh. I can show you something here,  too .”

Bucky gave him a curious look, and even reached out to take Steve's hand in his. His fingertips were chilly, and Steve squeezed gently, hoping to warm Bucky up as he led his boyfriend past rows of newer burials to a section that wasn't particularly old, but not particularly recent either.

“I'm fine, you dingbat,” Bucky murmured, but he squeezed back, and rubbed this thumb over Steve's knuckles.

Steve smiled at him, but kept walking until they were at a well-kept grave in the Jewish section of the cemet e ry.

“Arnold Roth?” Bucky read, and then noticed the birth and death dates. “Oh. Oh, Stevie.”

“He was my best friend when I was growing up,” Steve explained softly. “We lived a block away from each other and we were friends 'cause we were both weird, misfit kids.” He smiled, a little bashfully. “Jewish and Catholic kids didn't really hang out together, but we did. I was, uh, me and he was bookish and shy. And gay, although I don't think I really got that at the time.”

“Oh, honey.” Bucky slipped his hand free and wrapped his arm around Steve's waist. “What'd you guys do together?”

“Pull me out of fights, mostly,” Steve admitted, and smiled when Bucky groaned, then laughed. “He was good at that. You'd have liked him a lot, I think. He was 110% done with my bullshit, too.”

“If there's an afterlife, we're all gonna get together and form a club and you're not allowed to join,” Bucky informed him. He kissed the edge of Steve's shoulder. “You guys go to school together?”

“No, different ones. But his mom and my mom both worked all the time – his dad wasn't around either – so we could run wild all afternoon.” Steve grinned. “Well, I ran wild. He dragged me home to study. He was crazy-smart, way more so than I was.”

Bucky squeezed Steve around the waist, encouraging him to keep talking, so he did. Steve told Bucky all about Arnie, about how Steve got good at  drawing  faces because he had Arnie to practice on, about the time he got smuggled into the synagogue  for a service, just to see what it was like . About how they grew up and grew apart a little, but were still friends. About how then Steve became Captain America, and they fell out of touch.

“They interviewed him a lot, for books and things,” Steve said. “There's tons of video footage of him.” He wiped his eyes. “He was always very...honest.” He laughed. “You have to watch these interviews, Buck, you'll love them.”

Bucky smiled, and turned Steve towards him, and hugged him hard. “I know I will. Please. I want to see the man who knew you when you were little, and hear his stories.”

Steve nodded, and hugged Bucky back. “He and I just missed each other,” he mumbled into Bucky's shoulder. “He died the year before I got pulled out of the ice.”

Bucky's arms tightened for a moment. He'd been so close to never having this man, to Steve still being frozen in that plane.

“I'm so sorry,” Bucky whispered, and kissed Steve's cheek. “It sucks so bad, doesn't it?”

Steve nodded, holding onto Bucky just as hard. “I'm sorry you gotta know what this feels like.”

“Me too. That you have to know, I mean.” He rubbed Steve's back. “Arnie sounds like the best. I'm glad you had him.”

“Me too.” 

Steve was quiet then, hiding his face a little in Bucky's neck, and they held each other tight for a long time.

A squirrel running past them broke the moment naturally, and Bucky settled on the grass to watch and soak in the sun while Steve tended the grave a little, pulling weeds and making sure everything was tidy.

“Wait here,” Bucky said, and got up, going over to the side of the road that went through the cemetery. He poked around in the grass a little, and came back with two small rocks; pebbles, really. “Here,” he said, handing one to Steve, and they each set their rock on the top of Arnie's gravestone.

“Hi,” Bucky said softly. “You don't know me, but thank you. I promise I'll try to keep him out of trouble.”

Steve sniffled and wiped his eyes, and put his rock down silently. Bucky took his hand and waited there, patient, until Steve was ready to go, and they walked through golden autumn light. It was a quiet, peaceful morning, and if Bucky cried a little, Steve just squeezed his hand and let him be, as they wended their way through and out the other side.

**Author's Note:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


End file.
